hiding (ii)

the basement: i always ran there. i was never sure why. it was filled with my mother’s porcelain dolls and their unblinking eyes. i felt they were lonely. so i spoke to each one in time. i realized their eyes were graves… and every dollhouse became a graveyard that i promised to light pyres in.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s